


what comes after tiny fractures

by carrythesky



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 20:19:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11516706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrythesky/pseuds/carrythesky
Summary: “Bad dream?” she asks, barely audible above the rush of tide. Her fingers are moving slowly, tracing soft lines down his cheeks, and that’s when he realizes the taste of salt isn’t coming from the ocean.(It’s been a long time since anyone has seen him cry.)“How could you tell?” he quips back, instantly regretting it but she just laughs, leans in and presses her forehead to the curve of space between his nose and cheek. Her breath is rhythmic and steady, warm against his skin, and it’s too much, it’s not enough.Jyn, his body thrums, and then his hand is at the base of her neck, pulling her in.





	what comes after tiny fractures

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: fleeting moments + what happens while everyone sleeps

He still has sand under his nails, a week after Scarif. The memories are a blur but that he remembers, hot sand clinging to his palms and hair and the grit of it between his teeth. Sometimes, he wakes up with the taste of that beach in his throat.

 

(He remembers other things, too: Jyn’s arms, steady around him even as he sags against the wall of the lift, resolve blazing in her eyes, keeping him on his feet. The urge to succumb to gravity is strong but she’s stronger, so he leans in, presses his lips to the soft corner of her mouth -

 

Her breath is warm, a promise. _We’re alive we’re alive we’re alive_.)

 

\-----

 

Their first mission off-base will take them to Wrea, an ocean planet perched on the cusp of Outer Rim space and the location of an established Partisan outpost. Jyn is careful to keep her face neutral during the briefing, but her hands, clasped so tightly beneath the table that Cassian can see the lines of her tendons, tell a different story.

 

_Hope,_ he thinks, and before he can stop himself his hand is moving towards hers, fingers grazing the ridge of her knuckles.

 

She has to bite her lip to keep from smiling.

 

\-----

 

The Partisan’s comm signal is old and weak. Bodhi manages to trace its location to a smaller island set apart from the main archipelago, and that’s where they set up camp the first night, hunkered down in one of the caves overlooking the beach.

 

“I’m too old for this,” Baze grumbles as he lowers himself onto his sleeping pad, and Chirrut’s answering laugh echoes out like a bell.

 

“Nonsense,” the monk says, teeth flashing. “All is as the Force-”

 

“There is a ninety-two point three percent chance,” K-2 interjects, “that your companion will inflict bodily harm upon you if you finish that sentence.”

 

It’s Baze’s turn to laugh, a low rumbling sound that reminds Cassian of afternoon thunderstorms on Fest, and something tightens beneath his ribcage at the thought. In all the years his family has been gone it’s never occurred to him that he might find another, that he might _want_ to -

 

Jyn is perched near the cave’s entrance, her own lips twisted into something resembling a smile and when she darts her eyes to meet his, he thinks, _this, this is home._

 

\-----

 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. All he knows is that he’s choking, dust and sand packed deep in his lungs like duracrete, fire in his throat, his veins -

 

He wakes gasping, the push-pull hiss of ocean against beach like a whisper in his ear as he wills his pounding heart to settle. It’s dark still, hazy and smudged with traces of moonlight and Cassian feels his throat begin to constrict again, tight as a vice -

 

In one swift movement he’s up and moving towards the half-oval silhouette of the cave mouth and he doesn’t stop until his feet hit water. Wrea’s moon has risen full against a star-spattered sky, obscured only slightly by thin wisps of clouds and tangling the waves in strips of light and shadow. He lets his head fall back. The air is crisp and he breathes deeply, tastes salt on his tongue.

 

“You’ll catch cold, standing in the water like that.”

 

He turns, pulse kicking in his chest. Jyn is grinning, eyes bright as stars, but the expression fades as his eyes find hers. Before he can blink she’s crossing the distance between them, hands coming up to frame his face.

 

“Bad dream?” she asks, barely audible above the rush of tide. Her fingers are moving slowly, tracing soft lines down his cheeks, and that’s when he realizes the taste of salt isn’t coming from the ocean.

 

(It’s been a long time since anyone has seen him cry.)

 

“How could you tell?” he quips back, instantly regretting it but she just laughs, leans in and presses her forehead to the curve of space between his nose and cheek. Her breath is rhythmic and steady, warm against his skin, and it’s too much, it’s not enough. _Jyn_ , his body thrums, and then his hand is at the base of her neck, pulling her in.

 

That first kiss on Scarif was a hesitant wisp of a thing, soft and uncertain. This is something different, his mouth moving urgently against hers, devouring the soft sound she makes with a hum of his own. Her hands are soon lost in his hair, pulling just hard enough to sting and he responds by ducking his head, nipping softly at the column of her throat. Not for the first time, he revels in the dichotomy of sensations that comprise Jyn Erso, sharp angles, soft lips. Steady breath, wild hands.

 

(Dead, swallowed up by fire and light. Alive.

 

_Alive_.)

 

Something swells within him, and he presses his mouth more fervently against hers as they sink to the sand together. He can feel every point of contact between their bodies; her legs wrapped around him, the curve of her chest as she arches upwards, their lips merging as they trade kisses like punches.

 

_I love you_ , his thoughts sing but he doesn’t say it.

 

\-----

 

(One day, soon, he will. But for now -)

 

\-----

 

Another memory, fleeting, sun-scorched:

 

He has sand under his nails as he wraps both arms around her, crushing her against his chest and burying his face in her hair.

 

_Love is an element_ , his father had told him once, bright-eyed, not yet hardened by war.

 

Cassian breathes in, feels Jyn’s arms solidly around him, tethering him to the ground, and thinks he understands.

**Author's Note:**

> I shamelessly stole the _'love is an element'_ line from Laini Taylor's _Daughter of Smoke and Bone_
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](https://carry-the-sky.tumblr.com/) if you want to say hi. :)


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